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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26439637">Gimme Chocolate!</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabby_Shieldmaiden/pseuds/Tabby_Shieldmaiden'>Tabby_Shieldmaiden</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Magcase Real World AU [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Skylanders (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ableism, Aged Down Characters, Alternate Universe - Real World, Autism, Autistic Chopscotch, Autistic Female Character, Child Abuse, Female Friendship, Gen, Neurodiversity, Screen Reader Friendly, Sleepovers, Slightly Disordered Eating</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 05:01:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,130</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26439637</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabby_Shieldmaiden/pseuds/Tabby_Shieldmaiden</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>One day Boom Bloom got invited to Chopscotch's 15th birthday, when she threw a sleepover.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Boom Bloom &amp; Chopscotch</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Magcase Real World AU [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1921933</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Gimme Chocolate!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So, I guess this is a series now.</p><p>Last warning: Fic contains ableism against autistic people, disordered eating, and child abuse (related to the ableism). You have been warned, read at your own risk.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Boom Bloom found the invitation in her bag after school, when she was trying to find a bag of gummies she thought she still had with her. Instead, she found a card. It was baby pink, and it had a picture of a cake printed on it. The cake in question had a candle stuck to it, and that single candle on the over-decorated cake was in the shape of the number one. In gold cursive, it read “Happy First Birthday!” Which was weird. Because last she checked, Boom Bloom was fourteen. </p><p>But it made her curious as to why it was placed in her bag. So she cracked it open to find out more.</p><p>There was a stock birthday message printed on it. “Grow up well, baby girl!” It said. But in pen ink, a big cross was drawn over that message. And beside it, read something entirely different.</p><p> </p><p>“You are cordially invited</p><p>To Chopscotch’s sweet fifteen</p><p>I hope you are excited</p><p>Because I think you’re peachy keen!</p><p>It will be a sleepover</p><p>With cake and games to play</p><p>I might give you a makeover</p><p>We’ll just party the night away!</p><p>I hope you say yes to this</p><p>I worked hard to plan it out</p><p>It will be a night of utter bliss</p><p>Just us girls out and about!”</p><p> </p><p>And underneath that was an address, presumably to her house. </p><p>When Boom Bloom went home that day, she showed it to Mags and Krankcase. Over their dinner of lasagna, she asked if she could go. And they said yes, of course she could go. “Just make sure to call us if you feel homesick and need one of us to pick you up.”</p><p>She nodded her head, but she doubted she would feel homesick at all.</p><hr/><p>In all honesty, Boom Bloom was not that close to Chopscotch. She knew she visited the school counsellor a lot, and she had some special needs, but other than that, she didn’t know her all that well. At most, they partnered with each other once for a literature project, and sometimes when they crossed paths in the hallways they waved at each other. But that was the extent of their interactions. She wouldn’t exactly call their relationship a <em> friendship </em>. </p><p>Despite that though, she was honestly glad to just have an excuse to leave the house. The summer she spent with her family was… alright, she supposed. But she still did not find herself getting any closer to either Krankcase or Mags. At least, not to the same extent that her brothers did. </p><p>Chopscotch’s house was bigger than hers. It was in the weird part of town, where there were a lot of wealthy people, but also a lot of creeps. People like to joke that half the people who lived there were zombies. And honestly, Boom Bloom could only say that they weren’t <em> wrong </em>. Even though they really shouldn’t say it out loud.</p><p>She walked up to the door, and gave it a knock. Anxiously, she gripped onto her backpack and her sleeping bag. She had seen her parents pick her up from school before. Chopscotch was non-verbal, but she often wrote in her essays how she hated their overprotectiveness. Boom Bloom read them during that literature project when they were paired together. Though they weren’t the closest friends, she never forgot those essays.</p><p>To her surprise, Chopscotch was the one who opened the door instead of her parents (which Boom Bloom had expected to answer the door). She smiled and nodded her head, her purple ponytail bobbing up and down. “Hey, Chopscotch,” Boom Bloom waved back. “Can I come in?”</p><p>Chopscotch opened the door wider, and gestured at her to leave her shoes on a shoe rack by the door. So that was what Boom Bloom did. Chopscotch then grabbed her hand, and pulled her inside. Her face was beaming, and she bounced on her toes in excitement. </p><p>Boom Bloom grinned back. It was a small smile, but it made her feel a little less awkward by smiling back. </p><p>“Oh, you must be the friend Chopscotch invited,” called a voice from behind her. Boom Bloom turned around, and saw a short woman with bottled blonde hair wearing designer clothes and stilettos. She grinned, her mouth smeared with some sort of lipstick. “I’m her Mom, welcome!”</p><p>Boom Bloom greeted her, even though she did feel slightly creeped out in her presence. “Welcome to our home Boom Bloom! Have you eaten yet?” She shook her head no. “Well, in a while dinner will be ready. So for the time being just sit here and make yourself comfortable, okay?”</p><p>Then she sauntered off into her kitchen, yelling at her husband inside it.</p><p>Chopscotch grabbed her hand, then dragged her into her bedroom. And it had to be one of the strangest rooms Boom Bloom had ever been in, by far.</p><p>It was a small bedroom, almost like it was a repurposed storage closet. The walls were a bright purplish-pink, but Halloween decorations like glow-in-the-dark skeletons and plastic cobwebs hung from them. There was a small bookshelf filled with books in them, but the only books were books by Dr Seuss, a couple of children’s books - poetry collections to be specific, and two dictionaries. One regular, and one rhyming. Leaning beside the shelf, there was a plastic toy battle axe, painted purple, with designs drawn on it with permanent marker. There was not much floor space, but the bed looked to be big enough for two people, and there was just enough space on the floor to place a small backpack beside the bed.</p><p>Chopscotch pointed to the backpack, and tugged at Boom Bloom’s overnight bag. Boom Bloom took the hint, and placed her stuff down beside the purple backpack with skulls drawn all over it. She took in a deep breath and sighed. Her room smelled of dust and floral detergent.</p><p>“So… nice place you got here. Did you decorate it yourself?”</p><p>Chopscotch nodded and gave her two thumbs up. “Well it’s… interesting.” There weren’t any windows there, nor were there any fans or air-conditioners. She wondered if it got stuffy in there a lot.</p><p>She walked around it for a while, and realised that a poster was stuck to the little bookshelf. In the centre of it was some brawny, red-headed man holding a guitar and posing dramatically. Next to him, there were several other equally brawny men standing and posing. And underneath, printed in bold, striking lettering, was the phrase ‘Wolfgang and the Werewolves’.</p><p>“Are these guys a band you like to listen to?” Thinking about it, Chopscotch did frequently have her headphones plugged into her ears. She skipped and ran about when she had them on. Boom Bloom often heard people make fun of her for it, but she never really spoke out against that.</p><p>Chopscotch nodded, a wide grin on her face. She then walked over to the bookshelf, where she left her phone and headphones. But before she could do anything else, a voice called out from the outside. “Girls! Dinner’s ready!”</p><p>And it was then Boom Bloom realised that she was actually kind of hungry. She walked out of the room, but was surprised to see Chopscotch lagging behind her. She placed her phone back on the shelf, and her smile from earlier was gone.</p><p>When they both walked back out, with Chopscotch leading Boom Bloom into the dining area, Boom Bloom finally met Chopscotch’s father. A thin, wiry man neatly attired in a white polo tee and some black pants, with a pair of large glasses to hide his wide brown eyes behind. The word ‘mousey’ came to Boom Bloom’s head the moment she laid eyes on him. He was setting the table, and as he worked Boom Bloom realised that he was the same height as his wife. When she was wearing high heels. Glancing over at Chopscotch, she suddenly had a good idea as to why the girl was at least six inches shorter than her, even though she was a few months older.</p><p>Chopscotch’s mother looked up from giving orders to her husband. “Alright girls, have you washed your hands yet?” </p><p>Both answered no in their own ways. With Chopscotch shaking her head and Boom Bloom verbalising it out loud. And so they were sent off to wash their hands, and when they returned once again the table was now completely set. Four plates, four spoons, four forks, five serving mats and one large serving spoon in the centre. They took their seats, opposite from Chopscotch’s parents.</p><p>“Right, tonight we’re going to have something special.” She smiled a large, toothy smile, then walked off to the kitchen. She returned with her hands wrapped in potholders, carrying a large rectangular dish with a matching porcelain lid. It was opaque, so no one could see what it contained, until the woman placed the dish in the centre of the table, onto the fifth serving mat and took the lid off. “Voila!”</p><p>From what Boom Bloom could see, it appeared to be some sort of steamed dish. It contained mostly brown rice, some green vegetable which she couldn’t recognise, a few chunks of what she could only guess was chicken, and it smelled of onion and spices. </p><p>“Well, let me serve you now Baby,” she obviously directed it to Chopscotch. In response, Chopscotch handed her mother her plate, and she received it. Long manicured nails clacking against the porcelain. Carefully, she scooped out a couple of spoonfuls of food using the serving spoon in the middle. Then she handed it back to her. “And now that that’s done, the rest of us can dig in.”</p><p>Once everyone got their food, Boom Bloom couldn’t help but notice how everyone else had way more food on their plates than Chopscotch did. They all had big dinner plates, all of them larger than Boom Bloom’s head. But Chopscotch’s serving didn’t even fill one quarter of the plate.</p><p>“So, Boom Bloom,” said Chopscotch’s mother, “how did you get to know Chopscotch?”</p><p>Boom Bloom picked up her spoon, and scooped up some rice. “Well, we got grouped together to do a literature project once.” That was really it. But a part of her felt like she should not bring that up.</p><p>“Ah, and you two only grew closer from there, right?” Boom Bloom nodded. Sure, she’ll go with that. “That’s Chopscotch for you. She can’t do a lot of things, but she’s at least good at literature. That’s her savant skill.”</p><p>Boom Bloom glanced sideways at Chopscotch when she said that. For the most part she looked oblivious, chewing and staring into space. “Uh, yeah. She was a pretty good partner.”</p><p>“I’m sorry that she had to communicate with you by writing though. We really tried everything we could, but nothing ever came out of it. It was honestly such a waste of money, all of that therapy.” She shook her head, and shovelled another spoonful of steamed brown rice into her mouth. “But, that’s just something that we have to live with. Special needs children, you know? They all just need more time and effort invested into them.”</p><p>Boom Bloom swallowed and chewed her lip. That tone of voice… didn’t sound right to her. She didn’t spend a lot of time with Chopscotch because they didn’t have the same classes together. But a couple times, during literature, she had to go outside to meet up with the school counselor. And based on what little she managed to eavesdrop on, the school counselor always just talked to her like a normal kid.</p><p>“So, Boom Bloom, what do you two like to do together?” Asked her father, finally speaking.</p><p>“Well you know,” Boom Bloom bit her lip. “The usual stuff. We chat, like, via notebook and body language and stuff.” It was probably not a good answer, but he seemed to accept that.</p><p>“Have you ever read her poems, Boom Bloom?” Asked her mother. </p><p>She did read a couple, actually. They were a little hard to understand, but they were all pretty interesting at least. Unlike a lot of the poems they studied in literature, all of Chopscotch’s poems had a rhythm to them, and they rhymed. Boom Bloom honestly never got why some people thought a bunch of unrhyming pretty lines thrown together could be considered a poem. So she was kind of glad that Chopscotch’s poems rhymed. At least when they rhymed, it made sense to call them poems. “A few,” she answered.</p><p>“They’re not bad right?” Said her mother. “Although I think she can be a bit melodramatic when writing them sometimes. And she used to want everything she ever wrote to be a poem too. She even wrote one for asking where the bathroom was!” She chuckled under her breath, but Boom Bloom did not laugh with her. “I had to tell her that she really ought to take communication more seriously than that. I mean, she wouldn’t want other people to think she was totally crazy, wouldn’t she?”</p><p>Boom Bloom glanced over at Chopscotch once again. She had finished her meal, and though her face remained neutral, from the wringing of her hands and the shaking of her legs, she could tell that she was feeling embarrassed. In class, she often acted like that when she got made fun of by the other kids. And in those cases, Boom Bloom or someone else could stick up to her. (Though, truth be told, they often didn’t. Now she felt bad thinking about it.)</p><p>But now there were only the two of them against an adult. And for whatever reason, the words which usually easily flowed out of Boom Bloom only remained stuck in the back of her throat.</p><p>So she coughed, and said nothing else. And she remained silent as she continued eating her meal, nodding while Chopscotch’s mother shared more weirdly personal tales about her daughter’s childhood. “I hope you don’t mind, but we need to have Chopscotch keep the door to her room open. It’s not that we don’t trust her, it’s just that… with children like her, you really cannot be too careful, you know?”</p><p>Boom Bloom nodded. Was she really not allowed to close her door? She closed the door to her room all the time, she didn’t know any teenagers who didn’t. The more her mother talked, the more she was beginning to realise that Chopscotch really did live a life unlike most of the kids in school. And the more she wondered if it was all for her benefit, or if there was something deeper, more malicious going on. Something which she was only getting a taste of during her brief stay here.</p><p>Once they cleaned their plates, Chopscotch’s mother took everyone’s empty plates to the kitchen to clean. “Just sit here and relax,” she said, flashing her pearly whites to them all. “I’ll come back with the cake in a bit.”</p><p>She left the room and walked into the kitchen. Then the sound of a dishwasher activating rang out into the room. To Boom Bloom’s right, Chopscotch twitched when the sounds began, and continued to wring and tap her hands together as they continued.</p><p>Her mother walked out of the room with a small pile of plastic plates, plastic forks, and a small cake. Coated with whipped cream and topped with a variety of different fruits. “Well, here it is. I bought the base myself, and decorated it with some healthy ingredients.” She said, as she placed the plastic utensils down, and then placed the cake right in the middle of the table.</p><p>Her father spoke up once again. “What decorations, exactly? I hope that it isn’t that fat-free whipped cream again.”</p><p>She sighed, and started to stick candles onto the cake. One large pink one, along with five smaller blue ones. “Of course the whipped cream is fat-free. I just went and took the extra effort to try and find you a different brand, okay? Just because you didn’t like the taste of the other one doesn’t mean that it’s not important to eat healthily.”</p><p>Once the candles were all in place, she attempted to use a lighter. Keyword being attempted. For what had to be at least five minutes, the whole table sat in silence and watched as Chopscotch’s mother tried to get a spark to form. She cussed silently under her breath, hissing and stubbornly persisting at it over and over again. Until finally, she gave up, and walked back into the kitchen to get a box of matches. “Dear, you’re going to have to light the cake,” she said, handing the box to her husband. “I just got my nails done yesterday, and I don’t think I should use this."</p><p>Without another word, he accepted the box from her, and got a match to light up with a stroke. He then lit the candles, one by one. Once that was finished, he blew it out, and all sang together. Wishing Chopscotch a happy fifteenth birthday.</p><p>The candles were blown out. Thin slices of cake were cut. It was a cheap, pre-made vanilla cake that anyone could get from the store, except her mother decorated it with her own ingredients. All in all, Boom Bloom thought that it tasted like cardboard covered in a wet, sticky substance. Though she still wasn’t quite sure where she stood with Mags, she would admit, at least Mags could bake.</p><p>She ate up as much of the cake as she could. Some of the whipped cream she scraped and spread around the plastic dish so that she did not need to eat it. Then finally, she ate the fruits. They were the best part of the dessert.</p><p>Once the plates were cleared, it was time for party activities. Chopscotch’s mother had a list of them. But most of them were lifted from various parenting blogs run by mothers, and those activities were for children rather than teenagers, and for large groups rather than duos. She had to skim through the list multiple times before she finally came across an activity the two of them could do.</p><p>“I think you two should watch some movies!” She said, without much input from either of them. Faster than they could suggest another activity, she rushed over to the television, and pulled up a streaming service onto the screen. The woman had set it on childproof mode, so she was certain that the girl would not come across anything offensive in the slightest.</p><p>So the two girls sat together on the carpeted floor of the entertainment room, watching movies together. But they did not limit themselves only to the films on offer in childproof mode. Chopscotch’s mother frequently underestimated her. In doing so, she never realised that her child actually knew how to turn off childproof mode, and turn it back on so that she did not suspect anything.</p><p>Her husband knew. But when he caught her, Chopscotch pressed a finger against her lips, and he understood. Ever since then, it had been their little secret.</p><p>They watched a horror movie. Boom Bloom found it all to be extremely cheesy, but Chopscotch seemed to like it a lot. Actually, she seemed to love the villain of the flick most of all. The man who wore a thick leather mask, and welded a giant axe to slaughter his victims. Every time he showed up on screen, she would smile and flap her hands. Excited and gleeful.</p><p>Boom Bloom remembered the toy axe Chopscotch kept in her room.</p><p>Every so often, Boom Bloom would turn to look at the doorway. Just to keep a lookout. Her mother might come walking in any minute. Anyways, she found the movie to be rather boring. But despite the boredom she felt towards the film, Chopscotch watched it all the way through. Eyes transfixed onto the screen, slouching comfortably into a beanbag chair.</p><p>The movie eventually finished. But instead of picking a new one, Chopscotch stood up and grabbed the remote, which lay beside her on the coffee table. She went back to the home page, changed the settings to child lock, and left. Curious, Boom Bloom followed her out.</p><p>They walked back into her room. And for the first time, Boom Bloom noticed a foam doorstop which was stuck on with blu tac. Once the two of them walked into the place, Chopscotch tore the doorstop off, placed it onto her bookshelf, and closed the door. </p><p>She then walked over to her backpack, and took out a multitude of cheap snacks. There were dozens of multi-coloured packages to choose from. Potato chips, chocolates, gummy bears, cookies. And those were just the ones Boom Bloom could recognise. After all her snacks were taken out of the bag, she took out a purple notebook - Boom Bloom recognised it as the one she used to communicate with others in school - and an ink pen.</p><p>She scribbled something down, and showed it to Boom Bloom. “Pick a snack, any snack. I put too much for me to eat alone in my backpack.”</p><p>Boom Bloom chose a packet of salt and vinegar chips, and Chopscotch picked up a bar of chocolate. Sitting on her bed, she broke it up into small pieces. Then she ate them all up. She downed them all like a drunk downed bottles of gin.</p><p>“So, where did you get these?” Asked Boom Bloom. She opened up her packet of chips, and popped a big one into her mouth. Outside of the fruit, it was the best thing she had eaten all evening.</p><p>Chopscotch stuffed the last of her chocolate pieces into her mouth, and then reached for the notebook and pen again. Once done, she handed Boom Bloom the book, and resumed chewing the chocolates in her mouth. In a way, she resembled a chipmunk after it had stuffed its cheeks with nuts. </p><p>She gave her the notebook back. “Dad gives me an allowance which I am supposed to save. But I often just use it to buy the food I crave.”</p><p>Boom Bloom recalled dinner, and what Chopscotch had to eat. “Did you ever try to tell your mom that you wanted more food?”</p><p>Chopscotch nodded.</p><p>“And did she ever give it to you?”</p><p>She shook her head no.</p><p>Boom Bloom popped another potato chip into her mouth. But she ate it slower this time. As if it were something precious which she should not squander away.</p><p>After a while, Boom Bloom asked another question. “Does she know that you do these things? Like, buying your own snacks and turning off child proof mode?” Once again, Chopscotch shook her head no.</p><p>She finished the chocolate. Reaching for a packet of gummies, Boom Bloom searched her brain for something else to say. Things were getting awkward. But all the questions she came up with either seemed too stupid to say out loud, or too insensitive to ask someone she barely knew.</p><p>The gummies got cleaned off within five minutes. After them, Chopscotch decided that she had eaten her fill, and cleaned up the snacks around her. She placed the wrappers for the chocolate and the gummies into a plastic bag, so that she could throw them out later.</p><p>Chopscotch placed the doorstop back in its place, and walked out of the room. Boom Bloom followed her, and realised that she had gone to brush her teeth. She waited until Chopscotch finished brushing, and then followed her into the laundry room. Where she dug out a pair of purple pyjamas from a plastic cabinet next to the dryer.</p><p>They walked back into her room. Chopscotch however, pointed outside. Her way of telling Boom Bloom to leave, she was going to change. “Just let me take my things first, alright? Can I use the bathroom you were in?”</p><p>She nodded. So Boom Bloom took her toiletries, which were neatly packed into her bag with a waterproof ziploc bag, and her pyjamas, and scurried out of the room. Once out, the door closed behind her, but without a sound which signifies that it shut. The doorstop prevented any such sound.</p><p>Once they were all ready for bed, Chopscotch pulled her blanket up, and waved at Boom Bloom to climb under it too. And so that was how she slept that night. The door was still opened, the smell of detergent was still strong, and Boom Bloom stayed awake in bed for what felt like hours. There was simply too much on her mind to process. Most of it related to the girl right beside her. She looked at the girl, older but shorter and scrawnier than her, and wondered what this little glimpse into her life meant.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I originally wanted to include a mythology gag about 'Pop and the Gang' in this story, but I couldn't fit it in. Just assume that Wolfgang used to be in a band with Pop Fizz before forming his new band. </p><p>This story was also inspired by a short story I read in literature in Secondary School once. I believe it was The Shooting Ranch by Wena Poon. A lot of kids in my Lit class didn't like the stories we covered, but I thought they were all pretty interesting in their own ways.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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